Killing Assassins That Quite Like Your Girlfriend
by Ashabagawa
Summary: When Alex's arch nemesis turns up at his school,everything goes a bit wrong. For a start, Alex has to cancel his football game tickets in order to get rid of him and then Jack manages to lock herself out of the car while it's still running...
1. New People

**Chapter One – New People**

Alex first saw her on Tuesday.

He remembered it so clearly because he had just got back from Honolulu and his broken arm was giving him hell. The sling and cast that he'd been forced to wear not only restricted his normally top-notch reflexive skills, but also completely crushed the casual effect of the black shirt and black all-star trainers he'd picked out that morning.

And so, when Alex walked into form room, he was not a happy bunny.

"Good Morning, Mr Rider...decided to grace us with your company today?" His form tutor, Mr Ramisari observed him critically over the Homer Simpson coffee mug he had just brought up to his lips. Alex's long term absence was a standing joke at Brookland and so it was with appreciative glances up to the teacher that the other members of the form turned round to ogle at Alex's broken arm. Alex wasn't sure he liked Mr Ramisari. He smiled coolly at him before shuffling around to his seat.

Tom was less than sympathetic.

"Well you have been away for _ages..._" He said in response to Alex's whispered complaints. "And when you turn up looking like _that..._" An exaggerated eye jerk demonstrated the sling and cast.

"It's not my fault!" Alex began.

"I know mate...I know..." Tom held his hands up in surrender. "I'm just saying..." He trailed off, staring at his new timetable with false interest. Alex stared at his friend for a few more minutes before turning back to study the class.

Not a lot had changed. Lisa Greenwood had now got blonde highlights and Colin Moorham had an earring. However, there was something that wasn't quite right. Alex knew that if a terrorist helicopter decided to hover at the window outside the classroom, he could get up and throw his desk across to the far wall, acting as a shield to the shower of machine gun bullets and order everyone onto the floor in around 4.653 seconds. Something about his calculation seemed a little off today and it wasn't his broken arm, (he'd have to add another 2.341 seconds to compensate for that). No something was different. He scanned the classroom again, this time doing a head count.

There were 34 people in the classroom, including Mr Ramisari. Last term there had been 33. There was one extra person in the room. Alex craned his neck, trying to see who the addition was. If it was a Scorpia agent he could get his chair and...

Alex's thoughts trailed off as Mr Ramisari started to speak again.

"Now everyone..." The class fell a little more silent, although there was still the babble of chatter lurking around in the atmosphere. "You may have noticed we have a new addition to the class today. This is Clarice Richards and I'm sure you'll all make her very welcome indeed." Mr Ramisari's announcement seemed to have an unspoken 'Or Else' hanging after it. Alex didn't pick up on this however, as he was too busy feeling his stomach lurch as Clarice Richards stood up and gave a tentative smile to the class.

She was cute. There was no other word for it, really. Not in-your-face gorgeous, yet not plain either. She had a kind of freckly, smiley prettiness that seemed to look good everywhere. Her brown hair was the colour of honey and a little tangly at the back, falling in longish layers around her face. She was tanned slightly, yet not orange. Her skin seemed a slight breath of fresh air in the grey, slightly grotty classroom.

Alex didn't remember being quite this poetic since he'd sprained his ankle in Year 8 and had got a little creative with cuss phrases.

Tom was still doodling on his English book and seemed completely oblivious to the fact that Alex was hyperventilating next to him.

Clarice's eyes swept over the class. She was obviously nervous, yet Mr Ramisari seemed unable to pick up on this.

"So...tell us a bit about yourself, Clarice..." He said, scratching the bald spot on the back of his head.

"Er..." Clarice had turned an interesting shade of bright red. _Just let her sit down you tit..._The words had flashed through his brain before Alex even realised it was him thinking them. "I'm er...15..." Alex filed this information away neatly. She was fifteen, the same age as he was. "And I like drawing."

The class fell silent.

"I see..." Mr Ramisari said. "And why have you moved to this area of London?"

"My Dad's new job is based here." Clarice stuttered.

"Right..." Mr Ramisari stared at her for a few moments, obviously expecting some elaboration. When none came, he gestured for her to sit down and she did so gladly.

As Mr Ramisari continued with the notices, Alex made a few frantic attempt to catch Clarice's eye. None were successful. It was quite difficult though, as she was determinately staring straight ahead at the whiteboard, not even blinking.

After giving up trying to catch her eye, Alex reclined in his chair, sighing. Tom stared at him.

"What the hell are you doing?" He asked, having obviously witnessed the many attempts at making eye contact with Clarice. Alex gestured towards his neck, trying to make out he had a crick in it. Tom looked less than convinced but returned to his doodling anyway.

Alex daydreamed for the rest of form time, staring blankly at the back of Clarice's head. Unbeknown to him, his arch nemesis was leaning against the doorframe of the next classroom, wondering exactly how to kill him.


	2. Jam

**Chapter Two – An Arch Nemesis Isn't an Arch Nemesis Unless He Has the Same Favourite Flavour of Jam**

Every story must have a bad guy.

This is proven fact that some unattractive scientists in white lab coats have decided to back up with lots of important evidence. I don't know why they did. They must have been a bit bored.

Regardless, their research makes my job as a saga-spinner a lot easier as I have no need to justify the fact that a REALLY bad person just happened to be in the classroom along from Alex's at the time.

Actually, I probably do.

The baddie's name was Gavin and he enjoyed eating Philadelphia cheese and listening to music by Elton John. However, these two facts hold absolutely no bearing on the story whatsoever so I'll stop banging on about them.

Gavin had darkish, straight hair that did that poncey-eye-covering-thing, similar to that of Zac Efron or Joe Jonas. He also had very dark eyes and fairly dark skin, seeming to boast of several hundred holidays in the Caribbean. He had shiny white teeth and annoyingly perfect arms. I don't quite know what it was about his arms, they just were annoying. The muscles seemed a little too perfect and a little too carefully worked out, under the dark fabric of his black T-shirt. When he flexed them, he could probably take somebody's eye out. That sort of annoying.

He also just happened to be pretty good pals with Scorpia. Small world eh?

At the current moment in time that is important enough for me to bother writing about, he was leaning casually back in his chair, occasionally flicking his fringe camply. Although his dark eyes were fixed upon his form tutor, his brain was already occupied with slightly less quaint ideas than French superlatives.

Today was the day the Rider boy was back.

He'd seen him earlier, trying to negotiate the door on his locker with a fractured elbow. Any normal person would have found the sight pitiful to behold but Gavin, what with him being a bad guy and all, found the whole sequence rather amusing but then, let's face it; he's a bit of a psychopath.

Letting the teacher's current flow of badly accented French wash over him, Gavin clicked his pen irritably and visualised roughly seventy-five different ways of disembowelling the Rider boy.

*

The lessons seemed to fly by, metaphorically of course, and Alex found himself slipping back into the normal routine of gut-achingly boring school. Although he winged a lot about being a super spy, he'd sort have grown used to the whole imminent death thing and was beginning to rather like it. He'd much rather be a super spy than say, an accountant. He struggled with algebra.

In fact, it was in an algebra lesson that things started to get a little bit interesting. The teacher, Mrs Connor had just left the room to reprimand a student she'd sent out earlier, Tyler Harper decided to write the word 'Foil' on the whiteboard for no reason whatsoever and Callum Singleton was currently wacking Oliver Rushby round the head with his chair, while Oliver laughed manically. Nothing new.

Well, nothing new apart from the new completely beautiful girl sitting at the front of the class eyeing Callum's chair bashing ritual warily. Alex had been staring at the back of her head for some hours now and had not yet got bored. This could have been interpreted as a little bit creepy but Alex liked to think if it as 'sweet'.

Clarice turned her head slightly to the left and Alex suddenly noticed a figure sitting directly behind her, a figure he hadn't noticed before but more importantly, a figure that was staring directly at him.

He was tanned and Alex self consciously covered his own, slightly albino flesh. He had very dark, very straight hair that was layered over one eye but above all, he had very annoying forearms. Alex wasn't sure what it was about them, whether it was the tan or the muscles, but something about his arms screamed aggravation.

Although his arms were disturbing, they were nowhere near as disturbing as the murderous look the boy was sending his way. Alex almost flinched, before reminding himself that he had taken bullets, so one slightly off look from a jealous peer could hardly be deemed as threatening. He gave Staring Boy a cheery little wave before returning his gaze to the back of Clarice's head.

*

Gavin nearly choked on his own spit. That little Rider sod had just waved at him. Instead of withering and writhing about on the floor in response to Gavin's-Glare-Of-Death, Rider had simply waved, before returning his attention to the girl sitting in the front row.

Reigning in his feelings of outrage and utter mortification, Gavin followed Alex's gaze to the girl. His stomach performed a sort of strange flip. This girl was beautiful. Straight, casual brown hair fell across her shoulders, freckles danced happily across her nose and a smile tugged at the side of her mouth as she watched the two complete tits at the front of the room wrestle with a chair. Mmm...laughing at pain....she was Gavin's type of girl.

He flicked his fringe enthusiastically, desperately trying to catch her eye. Unfortunately, she seemed too absorbed in the Chair-Death episode to pay much attention to a boy exerting a little more energy than entirely necessary into a fringe flick.

Gavin sighed dramatically. He would have to bide his time to win over the heart of this one.

He focused back on Rider. He was still completely absorbed in the back of the girl's head. He was even drooling slightly. How very disgusting.

Nevertheless, he would have to stay close to Rider, learn his ways. Before he disembowelled him. Gavin spent the next few minutes happily envisioning a scene in which he murdered Rider, before passionately embracing the Girl From The Front Row. Ah, happy days...

*

Lunch was always a trauma.

The whole queuing up thing was enough of a trial already without adding a fractured arm into the equation. Alex waited impatiently, along with his classmates, for a spoonful of hot-pot he knew would taste awful anyway. Ah, the life of a super-spy...

It was then that he noticed Staring Boy.

Staring Boy was living up to his name and was blatantly staring at him, from the far end of the queue. Alex checked him out.

Not romantically, of course, as that would be weird. He checked him out from a military-purely-professional-no-dodgyness-at-all-whatsoever point of view. He was fit. Not romantically of course, as that would be even weirder. He was fit from a merely-observational-in-a-hypothetical-nature point of view. He certainly would be able to take care of himself in a fight.

Just like Alex would.

Curiosity was ignited in Alex's chest and he cranes his neck to examine exactly what was on Staring Boy's plate. Hot-pot, a bottle of water, three sachets of jam and a blueberry muffin. Exactly the same as Alex.

Alex shook his head. It was weird, but not weird enough to completely freak out Alex Rider. He quickly paid and found a seat next to Tom. They were just beginning to discuss the afternoon ahead when a tray was suddenly slammed down next to Alex's.

Staring Boy looked down at them both.

"Hello." He said. "My name is Gavin. Can I sit here?" Alex didn't answer. Instead, he stared, transfixed at the three sachets of jam on the two trays. They were exactly the same.

Raspberry.


	3. The Art of Having Irritating Arms

**Chapter Three – Rejecting Girls That Like You and the Art of Irritating Arms**

Gavin plonked himself and his tray down on the table next to Alex, not even bothering to wait for a reply. Tom jerked his head towards the unwelcome guest and pulled a face that clearly said "Who the hell is this joker?"

Alex was completely gobsmacked. He'd always thought he had a certain aura of mystery and aloofness that warded people off. Although he'd moaned about it, he actually quite liked the feeling of superiority and distinction that you got when people chucked themselves behind bushes so they didn't have to talk to you. Yet, here was this...this..._Gavin..._bloke being positively friendly. Something was most certainly wrong about this.

Gavin had either not noticed or was choosing to ignore the open hostility radiating off his lunch buddies and was happily tucking a napkin into the collar of his shirt, displaying the heavily muscled arms as he did so. My God, those arms were irritating.

Alex's left eye twitched.

"I don't mean to be rude..." Tom began, obviously with every intention of being as rude as humanly possible. "...but who exactly are you?"

"I'm new." Gavin replied, tucking heartily into his hot-pot. "I moved from Paris."

"You don't sound French."

"We moved around a lot." Gavin said, between mouthfuls. Now thinking about it, Alex realised that Gavin didn't really have an accent. It just seemed to be a blend of every single nationality under the sun, so much so that his voice sounded monotone and boring. Alex liked sounding posh.

Smugly, he spread a little of his raspberry jam on his muffin, not really listening to Gavin's tale of moving from place to place, but instead humming 'Yellow Submarine' under his breath. Tom's eyes seemed to have glazed over and he was now nodding his head vacantly.

The only interesting thing that happened in the next ten minutes was when Tom's apple juice carton leaked a bit on the table.

"Er...hi..." The three boys looked up to find Lisa Greenwood hovering nervously at the end of the table.

"Hi." Alex answered, grinning winningly. When it came to girls, he fancied himself a pro.

"Erm...hi..." Lisa looked at him strangely before turning to Gavin, smiling. "Sorry to bother you..." She said, simpering a little. "...but my friend thinks you're really fit." She grinned and gestured over to a table where a gaggle of hormonal teenage girls were all waving cheerfully. The one in question turned a brilliant shade of bright red, while the others all giggled hysterically.

Alex frowned.

This wasn't normal. It was usually him that got giggled at. He turned to Gavin, expecting to see a satisfying look of sheer terror etched on his rival's face. Instead, charm seemed to ooze out of every one of Gavin's features and he was smiling winningly. He waved over to the girls (who all giggled louder) and turned back to Lisa.

"Tell your friend thanks..." He said, still smiling. "...and that I particularly like the colour of her retaining brace, but I'm not really looking for a relationship right now."

"Oh...ok..." With one last simper, Lisa flicked her hair and returned to the gaggle of girls. Gavin returned to his lunch as if nothing had happened.

Alex was completely stunned.

"What the..." He trailed off as the girl in question turned and smiled at Gavin

"Women." Gavin rolled his eyes. Tom, who had always been slightly scared of girls, was staring at Gavin with as sort of unlimited worship.

"You're not going to go out with her?" He asked, his voice slightly squeaky. Gavin looked her up and down.

"Nah...I'm not really looking for a girlfriend right now....besides, there's someone else I've got my eye on..." Alex followed his gaze to the opposite side of the classroom and felt his stomach coil up into a knot.

Gavin was staring at Clarice.

_The _Clarice, _his _Clarice. Anger boiled up inside Alex's chest and without further ado, he picked up his tray and left the cafeteria in a huff.

*

Gavin viewed every step in and operation in two ways: Objectively and Personally.

From and objective point of view, lunch had been crap. He'd had to endure and hour's company with the Rider boy without actually discovering anything new that could help with his operation. Personally, it had actually been pretty good. After all, a moderately attractive girl had asked him out, not Alex and he had also managed to have a conversation with the wondrous girls from Maths. Granted, it hadn't been a very long conversation but it had been worth it.

He'd managed to corner her at the canteen hatch where the dirty trays were collected in.

"Why hello there..." Said he.

"Er...hi..." Said she.

"You're new?" Said he.

"Yeah." Said she.

"Gavin." Said he.

"Clarice." Said she.

"Do you like-" Said he.

"Goodbye." Said she.

Looking back over this snippet of socialisation, Gavin felt a little let down. He hadn't managed to get her phone number off her or anything. Feeling slightly dejected, he sloped off to Science.


	4. A Bad Day for Jack

**Chapter Four – A Bad Day for Jack**

Jack was extremely cheesed off.

Today, for the first time in what must have been months, the post office had marked the envelope over the stamp. This meant that she couldn't craftily cut out the stamp from the envelope and re-use it on a birthday card or other personal letter, as she normally did. And so, it was with an irritated flick she sent the letter crashing into the bin.

It was then she realised she hadn't read it.

Cursing and swearing, she reached into the bin, cringing as her fingers brushed something slimy. Finally, after wading through several Nasty Things, her fingers closed around the corner of the envelope. After delicately fishing it out of the bin, she wiped a bean off the corner and opened it.

It was written in 'Times New Roman' font and the paper smelled posh. Jack would know; she sniffed it.

_Dear Ms. Starbright ,_It read.

_We are of the understanding that your ward, Alexander John Rider has an attendance record of 45 full school days out of 256. We feel that during this time, Alexander may not have been receiving the sort of education necessary to help him get through his GCSE studies. For this reason, we would like to recommend a personal tutor for Alex, from a popular board of tutors named 'U-Doing-Crap?' This company have been used before and can be reached by email at . For enquiries, please do not hesitate to contact me. _

_Yours sincerely,_

_Mr H. Pullman,_

_Headteacher _

Jack sighed. This was not good. Alex would probably throw an almighty paddy when he found out his school thought he was a bit of an idiot. Mind you, he was really. Only the other day, Jack had come downstairs to find him trying to watch the 'X-factor' on the microwave.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and popped the letter on the notice board, where it dripped bean goo all down the wall. After cleaning up the goo, Jack returned to cutting out stamps that hadn't been marked, glad of her one sense of power in an unstable world.

*

Riding home on his bike turned out to be more of a chore than anticipated and Alex found himself displaying a certain two-fingered salute more times than strictly necessary. He dumped his bike up against the garage door, where it clanged and clattered to the floor before lying in a crumpled heap on the crazy paving. This was the final straw and Alex spent the next two minutes screaming blue murder at the pieces of obnoxious metal that just happened to be his bike. After all, it was the bike's fault.

Not bothering to pick it up again, Alex stormed into the house, slamming the door behind him.

"Jack!" He bawled. "JACK!" There was no reply.

That was weird.

"JACK!" Alex was never one for subtlety. "WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?" He stormed into the kitchen to find Jack dressed up in a ridiculous sushi outfit.

"Why didn't you answer when I called you?" He asked, irritably.

"Because it made more pointless drama," said, Jack after licking the fish she was supposed to be cutting up. Nice.

"Jack..." Alex began, staring at her. "...did you just lick that fish?"

"Why yes now you mention it..." She said, looking down at the fish she had just licked. "That was a bit weird wasn't it?"

"Yes."

"Sorry." Alex slumped down at the breakfast bar. Jack looked from him to the fish, before nonchalantly throwing it in the bin.

"Pizza?"

"Yeah."

They ate in silence. Partly because they were both miserable and also because neither of them could find a way to discuss the strange growth on the pizza delivery boy's top lip without seeming discriminative.

After all of the pizza had been polished up, they watched TV for an hour and then went to bed, neither of them feeling any better.

*

Gavin's feet kept going dead.

He shifted them slightly against the trunk of the tree and swore as a branch cut into him. It was dark and he was starting to get brain-numbingly cold. Ah, an assassin's life.

He was crouching in the topmost branches of a large tree that was positioned right outside the Rider boy's bedroom. Gavin liked to make sure he was thorough with his killings and starting with the target's night-time rituals seemed a good place to start.

Peeping through the gaps in the venetian blind, Gavin discovered that Rider folded his pyjamas in a disturbingly neat pattern at the end of his bed. A pair of Primark slippers were positioned exactly parallel to the skirting board on the opposite side of the room and a portrait of Robbie Williams had been taped to a dartboard and now had a dart sticking out of his nose, perpendicular to the paper. Gavin was actually a little unnerved.

A teenage boy had absolutely no right to be so completely and utterly neat. It was as if a slightly mentally ill person had taken over the room. Shaking his head slightly, Gavin continued to spy through the blind.

Not a lot happened really. Rider took his pyjamas into the bathroom to change and came out again clutching the dirty laundry in his left hand. He wandered down the landing, deposited it in the washing basket and re-entered the bedroom. He then, to Gavin's disgust, combed his hair before climbing into bed.

Gavin withdrew from the window. He had seen all he needed and now felt faintly ill. This Rider boy was even more of a psychopath than previously anticipated. He needed to be taken out....and fast.


	5. Boom Shake the Room

**Chapter Five – Boom. Shake the Room. **

On Tuesday, Gavin had finally decided it was time for Alex to die. After all, he'd given him plenty of time to redeem himself for his unnervingly neat ways and he'd completely blown them after folding up every article of his PE kit after rugby practise on Monday. Alex had to go.

Not only was his neatness getting in the way, Clarice seemed to have taken quite a shine to him. They'd been walking to and from lessons together, laughing jovially in the way people in the films do and Tom had been dumped, walking a couple of feet behind them, muttering Middle Ages curses under his breath. Alex and Clarice were not yet an item, although it was only a matter of time.

It so happened that the opportunity to 'Do Alex In' came on Tuesday break time. Alex had gone out of the classroom, leaving his belongings sitting unsuspectingly on his desk.

Time for Gavin to shine...

*

The last couple of days had actually gone quite well for Alex. After re-building his bike after the banging-against-garage-door incident, Alex had taken every opportunity to prove how fantastic he was to Clarice. It seemed to be working moderately well.

After all, they had been walking from class to class together, with Tom tagging miserably behind. He must have been doing SOMETHING right....

*

Gavin sat back and admired his handiwork. He was quite pleased with himself, actually. Somehow he had managed to sellotape a pipe bomb to Alex's pencilcase. This ingenious bit of sabotage-improvisation would surely be held with a fair bit of esteem in the world of organised crime. He sighed happily and set the bomb. After fiddling with the numbers for a minute (his fingers were too big for the buttons) he exited quickly, under the impression that hanging around an already set bomb probably isn't a good idea.

*

Alex strolled casually down the corridor, acutely aware that Clarice was standing no more than a couple of centimetres to his left. Judging by her awkward sentences and slightly faltering responses, his attempt at being completely irresistible wasn't working. As a last resort as she told him an entertaining yarn concerning her pet kitten and a hire car, he flicked his hair enthusiastically.

Possibly a little too enthusiastically as he nearly head-butted a sign advertising the Lower School Choir. After clarifying he was actually ok and not suffering some sort of concussion, Clarice continued her story and Alex tried to pull together the remains of his self-respect.

By the time they reached the classroom, Clarice had finished her story (the kitten was sick in the backseat cup-holder) and Alex's self-respect was even more miniscule due to a shoelace stumble and another sign head-butt.

Alex crawled over to his seat dejectedly and stared at his hands. He wasn't normally a prat- it was just a condition that came over him whenever he was within a five meter radius of Clarice. Coincidence?

Suddenly, Alex realised that some idiot had sellotaped a pipe bomb to his pencil case. That was weird. Frowning slightly, Alex picked the bomb up and inspected it.

It was Russian, well made but these things happened to bypass Alex, possibly due to the fact it was set to go off in approximately 3.87 seconds.


End file.
